


lamination. (there's nothing -)

by paopuleaf



Category: Half Life VR But The AI Is Self Aware
Genre: Crack, It Is A Game AU, how did it turn into unreality horror., please please please read the beginning notes, this was supposed to be a crackfic, unreality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:41:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26150548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paopuleaf/pseuds/paopuleaf
Summary: but you can comprehend the sound.wobbling, like laminated paper.-gordon freeman has always been an enigma. this is your first time seeing this - (your last?)
Relationships: Gordon Freeman & Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 46





	lamination. (there's nothing -)

**Author's Note:**

> HI !!! While this is a crackfic largely based on the laminated pussy shitpost, I cannot stress _enough_ that this fic has a **BIG UNREALITY TW** slapped on it. It deals with the reader coming to terms with the nature of their reality, and it's a little fucked up! Take care of yourself! Don't pay attention to the Laminated Gordon Crackfic if it's going to trigger you.

you've been following the sound for - days, now. the resonance cascade hasn't exactly made it  _ easy _ to navigate through black mesa, and it doesn't help that it always feels... tauntingly far away. you  _ know  _ that sound.

there's a burning inside of you to find the source. and then - well. who knows. you have a gun, lightly stolen ( _ borrowed _ , you insist in your head) from a dead security guard, and you have your wits about you, for the most part.

(you carefully ignore the fact that someone who was  _ smart  _ would've tried to escape black mesa, and the aliens, instead of following the persistent sound of wobbling laminated paper.)

so- you skip sleep a few nights. don't eat as much as you should, or… drink, rather. there's only soda. (there's nothing there.) you don't feel hungry. you don't feel tired. you are following the sound.

it is getting closer. (far away.)

there's the sound of laughter, yelling, gunshots. (you've seen aliens before. you've never seen aliens before.) a man stands at the forefront, and your brain cannot- comprehend what you are seeing. he is flat. he is- whole? he moves his arm in 3D motions, but there is no substance, no shape. 

but you can comprehend the sound.

wobbling, like laminated paper.

his companions stand around him, watching him mow down the aliens with invisible bullets and loud loud  _ loud  _ noises. they are - strange. you don't recognize them (you should) (you don't) 

you look. you look, and they do not look human. they do not look real. they are polygons loosely strung together, and as you look at your hands, you realize you are, too. there is no blood underneath your skin but the synthetic jpeg of an old developer's program, brown-red and not blue, not real. you die if you are killed, but were you ever really alive in the first place?

you are ones and zeros and binary code.

the incomprehensible man is not.

he is- something else entirely. not flesh and blood, although he may have once been, in this hell of a laboratory. when he turns to look at you (and you are frozen in awe and fear and your hand can't quite reach your gun and-) 

when he turns to look at you, his eyes are black/magenta/black/magenta - 

and there is that noise. comprehensible. safety. wobbling laminated paper. it fills your mind like so many flickers of tv static as he speaks.

"howdy- my name is gordon freeman, and-" that gun is pointed at you, instead. somehow, you know if it's fired, you will never see him again. "are you- fucked up?" 

you do not have a voice. you shake your polygon head and hope he understands. 

"hello, gordon!" 

"this is the same shit as always, let's get a move on," one of the polygon scientists speaks, foot tapping - jerkily, anxiously, a video running in 144p and buffer/buffer/buffering. 

gordon nods, paper bending oh so oddly, body-horror-but-not in the most enthralling way, and you stand, motionless, as he walks away.

the wobbling sound follows him.

there's nothing there - but he is here, and that is strange, and -

that is enough for you. 

(the code stutters, stutters, stops. the area of the map that you are in is unloaded.)

(good night, y/n.)

**Author's Note:**

> listen to [this](https://benreye.tumblr.com/post/627193191393837057/benreye-this-is-the-worst-thing-ive-ever-done) please


End file.
